Spel chacks nott werking..

Saturday was good. We helped celebrate our little mates 10th birthday at the Centenary Lakes in Cairns (and my only trip to the shops was to buy him a prezzie!) and then we headed up to Wongetti Beach, stocked up with good food from Rusties Markets, to visit my good old mates Mick and Karen, our biker friends, who I love to bits. On the way up the coast we did a little nostalgic drive-by past the townhouse where I use to live with Izzy all those years I was at Uni. I loved that place so much, it was perfect for us at the time. We had great neighbours and friends, we were one street away from the beach, our rent was really reasonable and didn't increase the entire time we were there. Karen was my walking buddy and we'd yack, yack, yack all the way around the streets of Trinity Beach.

They had some other friends 'round too, so we met some lovely people. We had a great night cooking up a barbie, having a jam and a sing-song and catching up on news. There was one chick there who has worked at the Croc' Farm for about 15 years and she had some hilarious stories about dressing up in a kangaroo suit and trying to do the croc feeding shows without being mistaken for the croc' food. She cracked me up.

But Sunday was shit. I think I dropped the 2 kilo's I've put back on recently, spewing my guts up after a few too many of Greg's moonshines. (Charming hey?) Man, what a miserable waste of a good Sunday. I woke up Okay, probably still a little drunk from all the frangelica and lime juice but then I became steadily worse. The cheesy smell of the empty chip packet I spewed into, on the drive back into the city helped matters along, as did the 7 or 8 massive round-abouts we had to drive through. Later I drowned a bug in my vomit as I watched the kids in the park, it was on it's back kicking away with it's legs in the air, scorching in bile, I spat on it for good measure and because I'm all class. Then I had to endure the 2 hour drive home sick as a dog, but once home, the rapid transition I made from bringing up plain water to feeling much better and gobbing down three pieces of cold pizza bordered on miraculous.

You might think I'm a total alcho' but seriously it takes barely anything for me to get a huge hangover. Ask anyone. I think I'm actually alergic to alcohol. On the rare occassion I actually feel like a drink, I think two's going to be my limit from now on. Anyway in this book I'm reading these two heroin junkies are trying to go through a home-detox, having that hangover yesterday made me more sympathetic to their horrible sick and miserable state of being.

As for the kids. Izzy has become the manifestation of Guitar Hero and lost 2 teeth on Friday. He's going to spend the first half of the school holidays hanging out for his Dad to come and visit. Bubby is constantly asking the question "Nat noise?" and we dutifully fill him in "that's the chooky laying an egg", "that's the sound of the fridge Bubby", "that's the culew-birdie singing out", "that's the garbage truck coming", "that's Mummy spewing into the cheezels bag". And then he's always asking "Matter Mumma?", "Matter Daddy?" and we reply "Nothing, it's all good Bubby", or "You just threw a truck at my head is the matter Bubby?" etc.

Please disregard the entry below. I'm not always a whingeing brat.

Dear Me

So I was about to blog how I've come 'round to seeing my sister and Greg's brother as a great couple, they're can't keep their hands off one another (for someone who loves public displays of affection, it's almost nauseating even for me) and they're obviously crazy about each other. So despite the initial shock and even though they're hurtling in trying to make babies and everything, I've been happy for them for the most part.

But you know down there (insert downwards facing arrow) when I mentioned Greg and I having a deep and meaningful (do people still say that?) in the middle of town the other night. Well he was telling me how he's been confiding in a couple of mates how he wants to propose to me, take me to Tamarna Island camping and make it all beautiful and special coz the lamest thing he ever heard was his mate who asked his girlfriend to marry him in his truck in the middle of the KMart carpark, and how he wants to work overtime during the season to buy me a ring and how he thought it would be even more special if we organized it together. And I was laughing and telling him "Way to let me in on my special surprise Greg, so you not proposing you're just asking me to help you organise your proposal?" And he was like, point taken and clasped both my hands together and addressed me by my entire name.. And then I interrupted him and pointed out that we were sitting in our car, in a carpark.. And we both laughed it off and swaggered back into the night to join the party.

But since I've been feeling kinda excited for myself, I mean we've been together for 8 years, it's been a while coming - the big slow-witted fool. Greg reckons he knows someone at work who sets stones and we've been discussing rings etc. The thought of sharing his and Anakin's name has been giving me a nice little warm glow.

Next thing I know, CHRIS asked NICK to marry him on Sunday!!! At the block of land they just bought down the road from ours (while Greg's at work doing overtime), not even 3 months into their relationship and they're engaged!! Me, Mum and Greg met them out at their land to check it out afterwards. Chris told Greg (who filled me in as soon as he got a chance), Nick told Mum (who also filled me in as soon as she got the chance) and I got left out of the loop, obviously she felt a bit awkward telling me. She told me today when I saw her at a girlfriends place, I was like "Yeah, I've been waiting for you to ring and tell me" And she was "Oh I thought Greg would've told you." (We're obviously so special to each other.) I couldn't congratulate her. I just said "Are you trying to break some kind of a record or something?" If I get invited to the wedding after that comment I'll be crying big fat tears, not for her joy either, for my own FUCKING SADNESS!!!!

I feel like me and Greg can't go ahead with our plans or it'll just look super-corny. As if two sisters seeing two brothers isn't corny enough on it's own without sychronised engagements! Mum mentioned double weddings and I let rip my foul mouth. I think she got the picture.

Enough stuff

I'm paranoid about becoming materialistic. Compulsively buying things we don't need gives me the guilts. I love it round here because going to the shops takes ages and is really only an outing to get the groceries. We need to change our approach when we are in Cairns too. We need to bypass WOW and head straight for the 'nard. Avoid Rebel Sports for another shipping container of Spalding Handballs on our way to Crystal Creek.

We've been in the process of cleaning out our spare room and so far I've got a boot load of books and clothes, shoes and toys for the Salvos. There is something to be said for decluttering that's for sure. The challenge will be to keep the exposed shelf space from filling up again.

As Anakin's birthday approaches I'm determined not to feel the need to shower him in presents. (Maybe just two ;) I don't want him to grow up with the "Gimme's" We'll throw him a big barbeque and give him a wonderful day surrounded by family. My birthday is coming up too - you know what I want? I filing cabinet to help me stay organized and uncluttered!

The matrix below illustrates my fantasy about living in a gypsy caravan. Now not much stuff is going to fit in there is it?! The four of us would have to have one each!

I'm doing alright I suppose. I've overcome the feeling of needing a copy of all my favourite books. I don't have a DVD collection.. Or a shopping bag full of toothbrushes, like one of my sisters friends. Clothing is my weakness - it's tough for me to stay away from the op-shop. Last Saturday I scored a pair of $300 RELIGION cargo's that still had all the tags on for $35! And as I've mentioned I've already got about a dozen stacks and that was after cleaning out the closet!

Took me half a dozen tries

And a day and a half...



But I did it!! TWICE!

(Please note, dial-up is PAINSTAKING!)

Croak

Managed a night out in town with my man over the weekend (although Greg got about a five hour head start on me). Our mate is moving down the Gold Coast to take up his new position as the head of housekeeping at the Versace Motel - it was his farewell party. We had a few quiet drinks at the Tradewinds' Ebar. Then the party moved on to a couples' nearby unit, where everyone went to, as I heard "get sauced up". I almost bailed out at this point because my interest in hanging around while party people get "sauced" is little to none. Anyway once there I was mixed a particularly strong tequila that went down well as I wondered when exactly someone was going to OD in front of my eyes and need 000. Some young fella Gareth, was crushing on me badly, which wasn't so much flattering as it was totally awkward and weird. He's probably googling me right now. Anyway it was all "Happy Days, Happy Days" then we left for the clubs. Me and Greg stopped for a D&M on the way, where Greg got all gushy and romantic on me and told me of his intentions for me, and we ended up losing everybody but by that stage I'd finished my third very strong drink and we made some new friends on the street ("what's the word on the street?") We took Otto and Bevan up to the Rhino Bar which was crankin and shouted each other Vodka and Red Bulls. All of a sudden I turned around to see my brother standing behind me! I gave him a big hug and it took him a good 5 or 10 seconds for the recognition to show on his face! I was obviously the last person he expected to see. He introduced us to his friend Mark and mentioned they'd just finished drinking in the gay bar downstairs. I'm sure he was just gathering some good stories to tell his best mate H, who is gay, but I dunno, him and his friend made a devastatingly good looking pair ;)

Anyway by that stage we realized we'd missed a couple phonecalls from Nick n Chris (the babysitters) and we raced off home, back to do the Mum and Dad thing. Once we had Bubby back to bed Greg started receiving messages from the Farewell Boy who had been locked out of the clubs, he was on his way over and they spend the rest of the night talking about old times, back when they played Monkey Magic. Coz, I mean who didn't?

It was a shortlived and fun time for me. Greg is a fun date. But I lost my voice while I was out and it hasn't come back yet.

Another one bites the dust

I had to get a wisdom tooth pulled out yesterday arve. Feels like I've been punched in the face. While I was waiting for the anesthesia to kick in I got a tutorial on the physiological development of the jaws and teeth and palate (Me - "a bit like tectonic plates." Him - "Exactly like tectonic plates!"). And the essential differences between the teeth of herbivores, omnivores and carnivores (Him - "their teeth aren't built for grinding, but cutting and slashing and ripping." Me - "that crazy monkey I saw looked like it could rip into some jugulars." We were quite amusing each other as the dental assistant tried to decide who was the looniest.

Greg's inappropriateness is always getting me in trouble with my girlfriends. His recent faux pas have included:
1. Unintentionally disclosing the existence of homosexuals and trans genders in front of a young girl whose family has lots of skeletons in the closet.
2. Offering cigarettes to a nicotine addicted family man on about his fifth day of trying to improve his quality of life by quitting. Even though Greg doesn't smoke but I'm sure he'd pull the shed apart to find some if it meant slightly corrupting someone.
3. Accidentally sending base material via bluetooth to a man whose marriage was in trouble even before his wife discovered "Big Squirt" on his phone.

Yep, he's a rare jewel my Greg. Fits right in with all the Tradies at work.

He's been featured in the sports highlights every week for ages as the top scorer for the Silver Team. Last week he even made it in the headline: "Martin's Dunks Please Spectators." Hee hee hee. We thought that was pretty deadly.

This Circus

Mary Kay is pervading my subconscious! I've been reading her memoirs and everytime I go to sleep I'm dreaming about all her golden rules, the GO-GIVE spirit, 6 most important things to achieve tomorrow.. I'm becoming a convert while I sleep! I rise in the morning (NOT with the 5am club mind you) and cleanse, soften, replenish and moisturize like it's the most important thing in the world! And get this - afterwards I apply a little lipliner and some gloss and powder!!!! It's been a very light read, she really got me with the "you can't afford not to employ a housekeeper!" and totally lost me with the "ladies must never where trousers" (I'd just finished refolding the twelve stacks of pants I own so they could fit into the cupboard and, was completely offended).

I was hoping some of her philanthropic tendencies would rub off on me because I'm conscience that I can be as nasty as hell. Me and Greg spent the weekend giving each other the shits and I have been finding it hard not to treat my sister's relationship with Greg's brother as a bad joke. It's showing. I laughed at her when she told me she had pash rash asking how could she when he's only got about 3 hairs sprouting out of his chin. Today after telling her how Greg enraged me by laughing heartily at the expense of the 1/2 a tonne Dad on Medical Marvels last night, she sighed dreamily and said "those boys have such nice laughs, really infectious... so nice". I was straight out "Greg has a nice laugh. Chris's is more like a bray". But she talks about them like they're one entity which is destined to freak me out. I suppose I could have told her she was mistaken when she bought that coconut body wash thinking she could go to bed smelling like her new man, that it was Greg's bottle he left in Chris's bathroom and if she really wants to smell like Chris I'd suggest some selsun blue and some phisohex.

We had a lame long weekend with Bubby sick with the spewies. We ended up taking him to the hospital for a checkup where he saw this South African Doctor who regarding Anakin's startled countenance reckoned "Whatsa matta Boy? Have you never seen a man az Black as me?" In a voice like James Earl Jones. Greg thinks he scared the sickness out of him. But his still not quite right yet. On the odd occasions Bub's felt good over the weekend he's made the most of it. Me and Greg have been getting up at all hours when at 1.30am or 2.30 or 3.30 he suddenly perks up and insists "shower!" or "Wiggles" or "read me Mumma".

Anyway I took Izzy to the Circus on Monday night thinking I'd give him a bit of excitement at the end of our otherwise slack and dreary long weekend. It ended up being such a shonky, hillbilly excuse for a Circus it was actually hilariously entertaining for us. The ring was about as small as my lounge room which gave the meager crowd a close look at the Ring Master's sweat stains. And all the red welts that his savage looking monkey had put all over his forehead as as it excitedly used him as a jungle gym while frantically searching the crowd for a good-looking face to gnarl. The "clown" had a two toned beard and was dressed in a cropped top, britches and a pair of footy shorts. Apart from his get-up, he looked like an alcholic pirate who was doing community service for some shady criminal offence involving children. He's main act was performing "death defying feats" on his tightrope (a piece of elastic tied between two plastic chairs) where he kept flashing great eye fulls of his beige jocks at the disbelieving and repulsed spectators. Other than those two maniacs, there was a couple of ring-ins from the local Gym Club who did flips off a mini tramp and landed on some scungy mattresses (probably the pirates) and some chick who'd learnt to juggle and balance at the one too many raves she'd obviously attended. Oh, and three others - the owners who operated the fairy floss machine and whose brainchild the Circus was, carefully planned (after a really bad acid trip) to provide there special son a rich cultural environment in which to embrace his uniqueness. And a donkey, and a goat. Both of which I swear I saw grazing at someones hobby farm earlier in the day.

In the Night Garden

I can't stop calling my kids little "Tombileeboos" and "Pontipines". Last night Greg threatened to "Acca-pac" me!! :-o